


Rain Drop, Crop Top

by hazard0us



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, but it's okay cause so does cas, cheeky cas, dean has such a huge crush on cas, fashionista castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 19:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazard0us/pseuds/hazard0us
Summary: Senior year is coming to an end and so Senior Awards are all the rave. Dean thinks Cas should win 'Best Dressed' for obvious reasons, but Cas has a different opinion.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lindsay @mishaleckis](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lindsay+%40mishaleckis).



> Lindsay wanted a high school au where Cas wore something other than over-sized sweaters, and, well, I agree.

_ Don’t forget to vote for Senior Awards! Who will be crowned the hottest person? The smartest? The most fashionable? Vote before Friday, April 24th! _

Dean scoffed at the way too glossy flyer on Benny’s desk and turned in his seat. The bright colors giving off a horrible glare, the lights could be turned off and the glare would still be there. The flyers produce their own damn light.

“What’s tha’ matter, Dean?” Benny asked, his tone amused. Dean wasn’t looking at him, but he knew the guy would be staring at him with an eyebrow up and a smirk on his face.

“Nothin’,” he shrugged in response. Benny waited knowing full well Dean was about to rant. “It’s just that this-” Dean gestured at the flyers- “is ridiculous. Isn’t it obvious who’s going to win what? It’s a damn popularity contest for the most part. I do hope Charlie and Ash win for ‘Most Likely to Succeed,” though,” he admitted begrudgingly.

“And?” Benny mused, leaning in closer to Dean.

“And what?” Dean quipped, fearing the next words that were probably going to fall from his best friend’s lips.

“And? Anyone else you hope wins? Or anyone else you think is  _ obviously  _ goin’ to win?”

“No,” Dean responded, all too quickly.

“Are ya sure? Cause I can think of someone who’s a shoe-in for ‘Best Dressed.’”

“Anna?” Dean ignored the high-pitch sound of his voice. Benny shook his head.

“Anna’s a pretty thang and she sure dresses nice, but her style is consistent, don’t ya think? She wouldn’t get the title.”

“Well then, I have no idea who,” Dean folded his arms across his chest and pouted, but he would never admit that he, Dean Winchester, ever pouted.

Benny smiled, but it was full of menace. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and braced himself. “I was just thinkin’ of that one angel. Ya know the one? He’s ga’ eyes bluer than sky, hair dark as night, lean frame, tan skin, pink full lips who can rock anything from a dress to skinny jeans.”

Dean tried desperately not to let the image of this particular person surface in his brain. “Nope, can’t say I do.”

“Are you sure?” A new voice chimed in from behind him. Dean tensed as Jo’s head popped up beside him, her arm around his shoulders and a smirk on her face. “He’s tall, wears lipstick better than anyone I know and can make you, Dean Winchester, combust from one look.”

“Oooooh,” another voice came from behind him. Dean buried face in his hands. His skin was tingly, his stomach a mess, and despite his tan skin, his cheeks were flushed as a tomato. “Are we talking about Dean’s crush again?” Vic asked, sitting himself in the desk behind Dean’s.

“We were just talking about how fashionable the guy is,” Benny started, “Remember when he wore that 24 shirt and Dean almost fainted?” There was a collective chorus of “yeahs” and then Dean felt hands around his. “Do ya remember, Dean-o?”

Dean mumbled something incoherently. Of course he remembered. How could he forget? It was third period English and Cas strolled in five minutes late with a coffee in his hand. He was wearing black skinny jeans that hugged every curve of his runner legs perfectly. His combat boots were shiny with little straps of wool around them at the top. A red flannel shirt, similar to the one he wore two days prior, was tied loosely around his waist. Dean groaned. 

“Oh he’s remembering right now,” Ash laughed. Dean raised his head to glare at every single one of them and then plopped his head back into his hands.

Dean remembered just how hot his face felt when he realized Castiel Novak, his crush since the 7th grade, was wearing a crop top. Half of his stomach was showing, his abs displayed proudly, the white cloth of the shirt almost translucent, and the shirt was fitted enough that the number ‘24’ was disturbed by the upper half of Cas’ abs. Dean couldn’t help but stare, and even after Cas had taken his usual seat, second row from the front on the left side by the window, Dean’s jaw was still touching the ground. “Dean, you’re gonna get a bug in your mouth. And you look creepy. Stop staring at him!” Jo had whispered with a not-so-subtle slap on the back of his head. Dean had cursed at her while rubbing his head, but he will admit, it brought him out of his daze.

“I can’t believe he wore that,” Dean moaned. “It should be illegal.” His friends laughed. They always enjoyed his misery.

“Dean,” Jo began, placing her chin on his shoulder, “You think all of Cas’ outfits should be illegal.”

“Maybe he just shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes, right, Dean?” Benny chuckled.

“Oh my god,” Dean groaned. “Not helping.” Cue the chorus of laughter once again. It was unbelievable really, how easily Dean’s life had turned into a bad sitcom. He even had his own laughing-audience soundtrack. He blames Cas.

“Remember when Cas wore that red patterned skirt? And a white button down tucked in, sleeves rolled up?” Ash questioned. Dean squirmed in his seat.

“Yep, he wore a green tie that matched Dean’s eyes and his hair was slicked back,” Benny nodded.

“I remember, too,” Jo chimed in, “He wore this amazing shade of red lipstick that I knew Charlie would love. We talked about it for like five minutes before class, remember Dean?”

Yep. Because the conversation took place right in front of Dean’s desk. He remembered twiddling his thumbs, trying to look anywhere but Cas’ freshly shaved legs or his red full lips. It was also the first time Cas had ever done anything to his hair, and Dean wondered if he had slicked it back himself or with a comb or if he had someone else do it. He became slightly irritated after the last thought. The image of Balthazar running his greedy fingers through Cas’ hair made his stomach churn. Dean was getting agitated thinking about it all over again when Benny spoke up.

“Speaking of the angel himself,” Benny purred. Dean tensed again.

“Oh man,” Jo gave a low whistle, “Lookin’ good there, Castiel.” Dean didn’t look up from where his face was currently buried. He was trying to save the rest of his dignity (not that he had much left after multiple accounts of him embarrassing himself in front of Castiel).

“Thank you, Jo,” Cas’ voice was a deep baritone that sounded both husky and soft at the same time. Dean had wondered on multiple occasions if his chest grumbled when he spoke, and how it would feel if his head was rested ontop of it. “Beautiful as always, Jo,” Cas commented, his voice almost a purr.

“I-uh, Castiel, please, you always say that,” Jo giggled nervously. Dean peaked up at her from in between his fingers and almost laughed at the slight pinkening of her cheeks. The only other person who could make Jo blush was Charlie, but Cas was the only one to make her giggle like a schoolgirl. Dean perked an eyebrow when she glanced his way. She responded with a light slap to his head and another pound to the nails in his coffin. “Say, Castiel, I saw you were nominated for best dress. Congratulations. I know Dean submitted your name multiple times and had us do it too. It’s a good thing we all agree though.”

Dean sputtered, his face leaving the sanctuary of his hands to look at Jo. She ignored him, her eyes still focused on Castiel. Dean turned to look at Vic and he instantly regretted it when he saw the smirk spread on the guy’s lips. Dean turned to find solace in Benny who was the only one who looked at him with a sympathetic look in his eyes and a “don’t-you-worry” smile. This is why Benny was the favorite.

“Really?” Cas questioned and Dean couldn’t tell if his voice with tinged with amusement or surprise. Maybe both. Probably both. “I nominated Dean.”

Benny raised both eyebrows in shock and Ash eloquently said, “Wh-what? W-why?”

“I thought his name being in the ‘Hottest Guy’ category was too cliche,” Cas said nonchalantly. Dean still refused to look at him for fear he might faint, or worse, get a boner. “And,” Cas added, “No one else can look as devastatingly handsome in fitted jeans, band t-shirts, and flannel. Not even me, try as hard as I might.” His friends stared at Cas in stunned silence while Dean made some inhumane noise, still refusing to look at the guy.

Castiel Novak just called him, Dean Winchester, devastatingly handsome. Dean lowered his face onto the smooth surface of his desk. The cool material felt good against his heated cheek, but it also reminded him how embarrassed, flustered, and maybe even a little turned on, he was. That’s it.  _ This settles it, Castiel Novak is officially the bane of my existence. _

Benny was the first one to break the silence with a hearty laugh. “Oh, man. You don’ did it now, Castiel. I don’t know how Dean’s going to recover from this one.” Dean glared at Benny, but his friend paid no mind as he balled over in laughter, tears at the corner of his eyes.

“I dunno, Castiel,” Ash grinned, taking a second to look at Dean, “You look pretty amazing.”

“I agree,” Jo chimed in, “Dean’s look is more of a “I-love-classic-rock-so-I’m-going-to-wear-band shirts-as-much-as-I-can, but yours is more of a I-can-make-all-your-favorite-band-members-fall-to-their-knees-because-of-how-good-I-look-in-their-merch.”

He heard Cas laugh in response and imagined him brushing his long and elegant looking fingers through his ruffled hair, “Well, Jo, I cannot say I agree or disagree with either of those statements, but I will take them. I would, however, like to know what Dean thinks. Too bad he’s too busy staring at the anatomy of the male body poster on the wall to even glance my way.”

Dean sat up instantly, eyes wide, an apology at the tip of his tongue, but he stopped short. He had thought Cas was sitting in his usual seat, away from him, but here he was, standing a couple inches away in all his glory. Dean felt the nerves in his brain short-circuit as he blatantly checked out Cas.

The man was wearing dark-wash skinny jeans that were fitted so well, Dean could probably bounce a quarter off those thick thighs. His stomach wasn’t visible but the faded Pink Floyd shirt hugged his figure tightly, almost lovingly, if that makes sense. Dean wasn’t making sense. Nothing was making sense because Cas was standing right in front of him in dark jeans, Pink Floyd, and a blue flannel with the sleeves probably rolled up to reveal his tan arms. To top it off, he was a wearing a leather jacket, but not like the over-sized one Dean wears all the time. Oh no, no,  _ no.  _ Cas just  _ had  _ to wear a cropped leather jacket because he had no regard for Dean’s personal health. Dean’s eyes finally made it to the guy’s face and his face felt like it would over-heat.

Cas smirked down at him, his blue eyes behind the thick-black frames of his glasses, “Like what you see, Dean?” Dean swallowed and said nothing. He couldn’t produce coherent thoughts much less coherent (and not embarrassing) sentences. To be honest, the only thing crossing Dean’s mind was how good Cas looked, but how much  _ better  _ he would look with his back pressed up against the wall and Dean’s hands slowly taking off all those layers. Not to mention the delicious sounds Cas would make when he-

“Dean? Dean! Hello, Earth to Winchester!” Jo’s finger snapped in front of him, in front of Cas, and he blinked. “Are you okay-”

“Go out with me,” Dean blurted, his words connecting with his previous thoughts but moreso with his dick.

Cas stood there slack-jawed. The classroom was eerily quiet. It took a moment for Dean to realize what he had just asked, and when he did, Jo and Vic could probably co-write a novel titled “Dean Winchester and his 50 Shades of Red.” Benny and Ash would be in it, too, retelling stories about all the times Dean humiliated himself in front of Castiel Novak, his crush since middle school, and then they would shake their heads and laugh in harmony.  _ But the reddest shade I ever saw on him was that one time he asked Castiel Novak out.  _

“Yes.”

Dean blinked.

“Did you hear me?” A familiar husky voice said.

“Wh-what?” Dean murmured, his voice barely audible, his brain still in shock.

Cas leaned in, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth and with something else, “I said, Dean Winchester, guy who’s have the most  _ subtle  _ crush on me since middle school, yes. I will go on a date with you.”

Jo giggled somewhere behind him. Ash joined in with his own chuckle. Benny whispered, “Well, I’ll be.” Vic mumbled “finally,” under his breath.

“I-you… Knew?” Dean asked dumbly.

Cas rolled his eyes and Dean’d be lying if he said he didn’t think that was the hottest thing ever. “No offense, Dean, because I do really, truly like you, but I’m pretty sure even Principal Harvelle knew.”

“She did,” Jo piped, “So did Bobby. And Rufus. And-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I get it. I’m not at subtle as I think,” Dean waved his hand, his brain finally catching up with the turn of events. “If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”

Cas laughed, a beautiful sound really, “I tried. But every time I talked to you, you’d find an excuse to run away. I honestly thought you hated me until you started reacting to all my different outfits.” He leaned in even closer, totally eliminating the concept of ‘personal space’ (not that Dean minded), “Which is good, since some of them were for you.” Dean’s eyebrows perked up, but before he could say anything, Cas’ finger was on his lips, “I said  _ some.  _ Not  _ all.  _ I didn’t dress to impress you Dean Winchester don’t feed your ego. I wore what I wore because I looked good and I  _ felt  _ good.” And with that, he booped Dean’s nose, turned, and sauntered to his desk. His hips shaking suggestively all the way to his seat.

“Dean Winchester, you are an idiot,” Vic laughed.

“Maybe, but I just scored a date with the hottest person alive on this planet and the winner of ‘Best Dressed.’”

Benny chuckled, “You certain ‘bout that, Dean?”

“Oh, yeah. He’ll always be number one in my book anyways.”

 


End file.
